


The Greatest Gift

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: ATF Denver AU, Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin and the team go shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Let's Ride #5.
> 
> A recycle of a clg Soldier of Fortune Inc fic.

"Come on, people!" Chris Larabee called, heading for the exit of their office.  They had just finished up a case and it was time that work gave way to the realities of the season.

After a burst of commotion his six teammates scrambled after him.  Outside they split up, Chris and Vin heading for Larabee's truck, Buck and JD for Wilmington's SUV and the others to Josiah's vehicle.  Chris waved for Buck to follow him, then pulled out of the parking garage.

Half an hour later ATF Team Seven arrived at Flatiron's Mall.  Climbing from the three vehicles, the team regrouped at the rear of Larabee's truck for a final check.

"Okay, everyone set?" the blond asked, trying to stamp down some of the snow under his feet so it didn't soak into his shoes.

Hunched against the cold, the rest of the team quickly checked their gear.  "I'm good to go," Vin said with a nervous glance at the rambling two story building that looked like a ski lodge on steroids.

"Same here," JD acknowledged.

"Into the breach," Buck nodded.

Ezra smiled.  "I am always ready," he said, then amended quickly, "to peruse the finer things in life."

"All right, here's the plan," Chris explained.  "We'll split up, enter from different directions so we won't cross paths.  Find your target, secure it, and meet back at the big fireplace in the food court in—"  He checked his watch.  "Two hours?"

Six heads nodded.

"Let's do it," he said and they headed off on their current mission – Christmas shopping.

Nearing the north entrance Vin slowed, fishing into his pocket for whatever change he had.  The elderly black man who stood ringing his bell noted the gesture and grinned his encouragement.

Vin stopped at the red kettle, depositing the change.

"Thank you," the old man said.  "And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas t' you, too," Vin replied, noticing the man's bare hands.  "Don't y' have some gloves?" he asked in his soft Texas drawl.  "It's freezin' out here."

The old man grinned and shook his head.  "Nope, wore my last pair out a couple of weeks ago."

The sharpshooter took a step toward the smoky glass door, then stopped.  Tugging his well-worn leather gloves off, he turned and held them out to the man.  "Here y' go, sir," he said.  "Maybe these'll help."

The old man's eyes rounded and he glanced from the gloves to Vin and back again.  "You sure?" he asked the younger man.  "It's awful cold and you're going to need them."

"I'm sure," Vin insisted, taking a half-step closer to the man.

Reaching out, the old man accepted the proffered gift and quickly slipped them on.

The soft sigh that escaped the man's lips was all the thanks Vin needed.  He grinned.  "Merry Christmas, friend."

The old man, his eyes bright, nodded.  "It is indeed.  God bless you, son," he said as Tanner disappeared into the mall.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Two hours later the team met at the food court, each one clutching an assortment of bags stuffed full of gifts.  Vin in particular carried a larger load than the others.

"What'd you do, Slick?" Buck asked him.  "Buy out a couple of stores?"

"Had t' pick up some stuff fer the kid at the shelter," Vin replied.  "Didn't you?"

Buck eyes rounded.  "Oh, damn!  I knew I was forgetting something!"

The others chuckled, Chris telling him, "Toy store's right over there.  You've got twenty minutes."

Buck hurried off, calling back, "Get me a burger and fries!"

Piling their bags carefully so they were protected from prying eyes, each of the six secured his lunch and brought it back to the corner table they occupied.  Buck returned in time to gobble down his food and, meals eaten, they collected their booty and headed for the exit.  As they neared Vin slowed, saying, "Got one more thing I have t' do.  Chris, I'll meet y' at the truck in a few."

"Just don't get lost," Larabee warned.  "We might never find you."

The sniper grinned.  "I'll do my best, Cowboy."  Turning, he headed for the far end of the mall where he'd entered.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The old man was still standing next to his red kettle, ringing his bell.  Vin reached into one of the bags he carried and pulled out a small box, then pushed the door open and stepped outside.

"Uh, 'cuse me, sir," he said, getting the old man's attention.

The black eyes lit up.  "Ah, I see you've got quite a haul there," he said, then chuckled.

"Yep," was Vin's only reply.  He nodded at the man's glove-clad hands.  "Mind if I have m' gloves back?" he asked the bell-ringer.

The startled, disappointed expression on the old man's face was quickly hidden as his head dipped.  "Uh, sure," he said huskily, pulling them off.  Without looking up, he handed them back.

Vin snagged the gloves between two fingers and pressed the box into the man's palm at the same time.

The old man's head jerked up as he fingers closed on the carton.  "What's this?" he asked.

"These gloves are gettin' a little old," was all Vin said as he headed for the parking lot.  "Y' take care now."

The old man watched the man for a moment, then looked down and opened the lid.  His eyes widened and he breathed softly, "Well, I'll be…"  A pair of new fleece-lined leather gloves sat inside.  He looked up, intending to call the young man back, but he was nowhere in sight.

With a soft chuckle and a shake of his head, he removed the gloves from the box and pulled them on.  Tossing the box into the garbage can nearby, he shook his head.  Maybe the spirit of Christmas was alive and well after all.  He smiled and tipped his hat at the two young women who passed his kettle, ringing his bell with renewed vigor.


End file.
